


unfazed

by dames_for_jamesbarnes



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Choking, Dom/sub Play, Exhibitionism, F/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Other, Penis In Vagina Sex, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dames_for_jamesbarnes/pseuds/dames_for_jamesbarnes
Summary: “Agent Hotchner.”His voice is smooth, steady. Low. The phone is held against his cheek with one hand. There’s no hint of anything, and his brow quirks as he looks down at you, a smirk curling his lips.You just look at him. Wide-eyed, mouth falling open as he thrusts his hips, presses into you that much deeper. You’re thankful in that moment that his blinds are closed, that his office door is locked, that when you came in, he insisted on it.“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 123





	unfazed

**Author's Note:**

> reader has a vagina/vulva, but there are no gendered pronouns.

“Agent Hotchner.” 

His voice is smooth, steady. Low. The phone is held against his cheek with one hand. There’s no hint of anything, and his brow quirks as he looks down at you, a smirk curling his lips.

You just look at him. Wide-eyed, mouth falling open as he thrusts his hips, presses into you that much deeper. You’re thankful in that moment that his blinds are closed, that his office door is locked, that when you came in, he insisted on it.

“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

You thought _you_ were playing. The end of the long day with you standing in front of his desk, mouth twisted into a smirk after you teased him all day. Gentle touches in front of others, sly ones when no one was looking. A particular brush of your hand against his dick as you passed each other for coffee, another against his ass as you squeezed between him and a desk. All day, never ceasing, knowing that at the end of the day he’d come down to your desk and ask to go over something in his office.

That’s how you ended up here. Stripped bare, back on his desk, legs spread for him. Pants on the floor, underwear tossed aside. His mouth had been on you first, tongue on your clit, mouth on your folds. Chin covered in your wetness when he pulled back, your cries barely muffled by his fingers in your mouth. You’d begged for him as he teased you open with his thick fingers next, head lolling back as he worked you over with a mouth on your collarbone, moving lower to press his tongue flat against your nipple.

But now he was inside of you, and you could only watch as he spoke into the receiver.

It’s not even his cell. It was the corded phone in his office, and you struggle to control your breathing as you watch the line stretch, especially as he drops his free hand to run his thumb over where he’s pressing into you. You whine, watching as he lifts his thumb again to run his tongue along it, eyes never leaving you.

 _God, he’s not even_ fazed, _the fucker._

“Have you talked to Agent Jareau?” he asks. Nonchalant, like didn’t just taste you. Like a few minutes ago he hadn’t taken all three of his fingers and pushed them into your mouth, let you taste yourself while he pushed his cock into you.

“Aaron –”

Your voice is hoarse, pleading. Barely audible. But he sees you. His eyes just stay on you. His index finger presses against his lips, and you whine once as his hips pull back achingly slow. He does it until the head of his cock is the only thing left in you, and then pushes forward in one smooth thrust.

You clench around him, mouth falling open in a silent plea. He answers it by dropping his free hand again, his fingers once again toying with you, this time by ghosting a touch over your folds.

“Good,” he murmurs. Playing with you the whole time, his cock and fingers hurtling you towards the edge. His voice is steady, even as he works your clit in small, maddening circles. “Send the files to her, and in the morning we’ll go over next steps.”

The breath you let out is shuddering, gasping. Your eyes close tight, lifting your hips so his next thrust buries him impossibly deep “Aaron, move, _please_ , more,” you mouth, desperate to come because of him.

He’s quick, then. Leaning forward. Hand resting over your throat, barely a touch at all. His thumb strokes your skin, and you shiver, because now his hips are still.

“I don’t think that’s the right call,” he says into the speaker, and you can feel every word aimed at you. A question whether or not the other person on the line knew it. “Are you sure?”

You nod. Sharp. His eyes glance towards the phone, before he smirks.

“Good.” Without missing a beat he slides into your warmth, hand still over your throat. You feel the pressure with every thrust, his cock pushing you against his grip. You don’t make a sound, but your eyes flutter closed at the feeling, the pressure, at the way he takes you apart.

“ _Look_.” It’s insistent, and when your eyes fly open his brown ones bore into you.

There’s a rush of heat through you at the sight of him, standing over you, tie still on, barely loosened, shirt still buttoned. You have to lift your own hand to cover your mouth at the thought of him taking you apart without a single thought, bite down on your knuckle. “You’ll have my team at your disposal, but I need to be kept in the loop.”

You know what the person’s saying on the other end. Pull your hand back so you can mouth it yourself, delight filling you as you feel his hips stutter at the sight, push deep into you.

_Yes, sir._

His eyes are alight as they look at you, his head falling back for a moment with a tight swallow. “Something’s come up. We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says quickly. The other person must agree, because he’s saying “yes, goodnight.” And then the phone is slamming into the receiver, eyes roaming your body.

“Dirty,” he hisses, leaning over you.

“Then fuck me, Aaron,” you gasp out, and you can’t hide the way that it’s a plea disguised as snark.

He obliges. He can’t help it, the way you look spread over his desk, the way your legs fall open for him just that much more. A spot just for him, one he takes and revels in. He bends forward so he’s over you, teeth scraping against the junction of your neck and shoulder. Both hands are free now, and he takes yours in them, pins them against the edge of his desk by your head.

“All day, you tease,” he hisses. “You deserve punishment for being a brat.”

“Y-Yes,” you gasp out. “Aaron, yes.”

“You don’t deserve to come,” he says, punctuating each word with a nip of his teeth against your skin. He gives you nothing more than slow rolls of his hips, ones that drag the front of him against your clit beautifully. “You don’t deserve the reward.”

You whine out suddenly. “Please, I need to –”

“Should make you wait until we get home,” he growls. “Let you sit in the car, so fucking wet for me.”

Your eyes widen at the thought, of sitting on leather seats feeling the way you’ve soaked through your underwear. Of seeing his smirk as he plays with you the whole ride over, hand brushing over your thigh through your slacks, nails scraping over your inseam. “Please, sir, I –”

The moniker slips out again, and you don’t even think about it, but it makes him pause, makes him lift his head to look at you with eyes dark in the lamp-lit office.

“Please _what_?” he murmurs, voice suddenly low. “What do you want?”

You say it easily, the words spilling out of you. “P-Please, sir. I want you to fuck me, l-let me come.”

That’s it. That’s the mark, and you hit it dead on. He groans against your skin, and you’re free to moan, now, gasping at the way he picks up the pace, at the way his cock buries inside of you impossibly deep. One of his hands drop yours, and you feel his touch on your folds again, your soaked thighs making his fingers slick. He’s with you at the edge, and your hand lifts to grip at his tie, right at the base of the knot. It makes his breath catch, gasp out a curse.

“Yes,” you praise, and your legs wrap around his hips, trapping him close. His hand is in between the both of you, moving over your clit with purpose. Your back arches with the touch, pushing into the friction, pushing against him. “Yesyesyes, god, Aaron, _sir_.”

“Come for me, baby,” he whispers, voice rough. You hear the shudder, see the fine tremor behind the powerful thrusts. You clench around him again, and he groans. “Come for me.”

A few more strokes of his fingers and you do. You come around him, the wave crashing over you, making you squeeze around him. He thrusts through your aftershocks, and you’re letting out a shaky gasp when he finally comes inside you.

There’s a few moments. Moments where he presses gentle kisses against your skin, nuzzles against your neck to be sure there’s no mark from where his hand was. You hum at the touch, tilt your head from side to side at his urging. It’s once he’s satisfied that he lays against you, your breaths the only sound in the room.

“You took a phone call,” you laugh when he slumps against you, words a little shaky. You can feel the way he’s breathing, the heat of it against your neck.

“Thought it’d be quick,” he replies. Presses a kiss right under your ear, and you push him back gently to really look at him. Raise a brow as you snort at the look on his face, a little too smug.

“No, you didn’t,” you accuse, and your finger pokes into his chest as he huffs.

“No, I didn’t,” he admits easily. Lifts a hand through your hair, so it’s pushed back from your forehead. “You loved it.”

It’s his accusation right back, and you don’t even have the energy to balk at the suggestion, just smirk as you lean back onto the desk, a pleasant sigh coming from you as he kisses the marks his teeth left on your shoulder. “Well. I thought that was obvious.” 


End file.
